


Sleepover Games

by homosuck



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Pepsicola, dude this was meant to be smut but then cute and i couldnt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 06:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1594181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosuck/pseuds/homosuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hey so this is just a one shot thing I whipped up, John and Dave being fluffy confessing dorks. No smut in this one, but probably soon to come in others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepover Games

Your name is Dave Strider and you are completely bored out of your mind. John had been over at your house for hours on top of hours, and it’s seemed you’ve run out of things to do. Now that the movies were over and video games had been beaten, you were both just lying around, trying to figure out what you should attempt next. You had already played truth or dare, but things soon got boring when both of you always chose dare and the challenges got more and more disgusting. Like having to swallow a spoonful of mixed up jelly, mustard and chili sauce John had concocted with the contents of your fridge. That’s where you had called the game off actually, after your throat was burning with the sticky sweet and partially burning taste. Both of you were equally competitive, and so the games would go on for hours, only to end with a tie or both of you quitting. Your head reeled with ideas, and none of them seemed right enough. 

There was spin the bottle, but that would require the both of you just aimlessly pawing around an empty soda 2 liter before it landed on the other, and would also be a very blunt way of asking for that kiss you’ve been wanting. Stupid, no bottle spinning. There was 7 minutes in heaven, but that was also stupid and also blunt. Why were all of these leading to kissing him anyways? You tilted your head to the side, looking at the brunette beside you on the ground. He was as deep in thought as you were, but quickly turned to you as he noticed your movement. 

“What? Thought of something?” He asked, his blue eyes brightening for a second before you shake your head. God the boy was amazing to look at. You figure that’s kind of a creepy thing to think was amazing, he was your best friend after all, but he sure was more than that in a secret place in your mind. And it was slowly becoming less and less secret. 

Many times that night, the sexual tension was so huge you had to literally shake yourself out of it. There was one moment after a game of Mario Kart, where you had lost and John was walloping over his win, where a shove to the ribs and an innocent tackle attempt had ended with you way too close to him. Much too close. It had been hard to clean up your act after that, and you had somehow played it off with a smug laugh and a acceptance of your newly owned victory against John. The boy had been planning revenge on you since then, and you figured that’s what brought the idea to the blue eyed boys mind. 

“Oh! I’ve got it!” He exclaimed, shooting up from his laying down position to sit cross legged. He turned to you, his eyes full of the bright deviousness. It looked exactly the same when he planned to prop a bucket of water above your bedroom door. “Rose told me about it the other day.” He was now situating himself closer to you and facing forward, and you sat up on your elbows before sitting with your legs like John’s. Oh boy, not a Rose suggestion. You had talked to the sly blonde girl multiple times over the subject of your massive John crush, and she always had something up her sleeve to out you without really outing you. One of her favorite hobbies was planting nice ideas in your best bud’s/crush’s mind, and the brunette was so oblivious to it that it was maddening. But you waited for him to continue none the less. 

“It’s called something like, gay chicken I think.” When you rolled your eyes and slumped your shoulders, he smirked. “C’mon you gotta at least try it.” He looked at you with that vengeful winning confidence built up in him. “I bet I can beat you.” 

With this, you decide Rose is more helpful than hurtful, and you certainly don’t want to be the wimp that shied away from a competition. John looked equally as motivated, and you turned to him more squarely. It was odd that he was agreeing to such a game, but you couldn’t really complain, and you certainly aren’t going to ask him. He’d be skittering away before you could say ‘not a homosexual’. Your knees are almost touching on the carpet of your floor now, and you sigh, tilting your head to the boy in front of you. And god damn was he a pretty boy. You honestly think you could stare at him all day, and you always love the fact that your shades hide your wandering gaze. Although he has caught you spaced off in his eyes a couple times before, he is still mostly unaware of your long timed glances. But there’s no staring to be had right now, there’s a game to win. 

“Ok ok, what’re the rules,” you ask, trying to act as bored as possible with the idea of a seemingly very erotic game. John brightens at your acceptance, and closes the inches left between your knees. You glance down at the skin touching your jeans, but your focus snaps back quick enough. 

John smiled wider, and he looked you in the eye, or what he could guess was in your eye, and began to explain. “Ok, well, there are two players. Same gender,” He starts off, and his hand in sneaking away for something. “And the goal is to not move away.” Those fingers are steadily getting closer to yours, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as he continues. “We go in turns, and you have to touch your opponent until they get uncomfortable enough to move back.” His fingers now touch yours, and your heart beat quickens. “And it’s called gay chicken because,” He brings your hand to the front, holding it between your laps. “You have to touch as inappropriately as you can.” 

The stupid grin on his face is contagious and you smirk back, the smile lopsided on your features. Your hand squeezes his, and goddammit Rose, way to help out the love life. 

“Anything you say sugar,” you drawl, smoothing circles on his hand. You’re really laying it on thick, and John seems taken back. But he’s not about to even think about moving backwards. She’s a genius. You think you catch a slight pink to his cheeks before his hand pulls yours closer to him. 

“Anything I say?” he says, and he kisses softly on the top of your hand. Now it’s your turn to move, but your hearts a mush. This is basically your opportunity to make the moves without being questioned, and your quick to the point. Your free hand glides up his leg, and you begin to pull it out of its crisscrossed position. Your hand slips from his, and you move his other leg out too. Soon you’ve got his lap open, and you slide forward until his legs are draped across your hip bones. You’re now sitting close enough to see the blush more clearly, and you smirk. Winning is going to be easy, you just hope it’s not too easy, and that this can go further before he backs out. And you know he will have to be the one giving up, because you won’t. You’ve been waiting for this for a couple years now. You tilt your face innocently, and lean a little closer. 

“Anything you say John,” you whisper, a sly smile spread across your lips. Your eyes widen in surprise as he pulls you forward by your shirt collar. There’s a very serious expression of determination on his face, and you know he’s not losing this easy. 

“Rough today aren’t we?” you say, relaxed in his grip. You make sure to let him know you’re still comfortable, so he’s more hardworking to make you the opposite. The more it takes to make you move, the farther he’ll go with one turn. 

It’s your move now, and you coolly smooth your hand behind him, and your fingertips glide across the small of his back. He’s blushing much more now, and you’re pretty sure he’s biting his lip out of concentration. He doesn’t seem too weirded out by it, innocent in the fact that this was a simple game he had to win. And your plan turns out to be right, because his next move is more valiant than the last. 

He pulls you forward by your shirt even more, and for a second your eyes go wide because you think he’s going to kiss you. But he stops at the last moment, his face inches from yours. You can feel his breath at your neck, and you shiver. 

“I’m so going to win Dave,” he whispers, and you laugh to cover up your slipping poker face. 

“Like hell you will,” you say back, your eyes catching on his breathtaking blue. He really is close now. “My turn.” Your hands smooth down farther, and you close the distance, deciding to tilt down swiftly to kiss his neck instead. You can feel him shudder, and you wonder if he’d move now. But he keeps on, and damn is he determined. 

“Bastard,” he says, his breath hitching if you’re hearing right. He doesn’t even hesitate to let go of your shirt now, his piano fingers instead running down the front of your shirt. You can feel him lift the fabric up, and those hands are drawing lines up your chest before you can say anything. You must have tensed up though, because John thinks he’s won.

“Can’t take the heat Dave?” He laughs, and you smirk with your own husky chuckle. You can tell the sound makes him rethink his actions, and his hands are still moving. 

“I /am/ the heat John.” And you push him back, his hands getting caught in your shirt. His legs were already over yours, so he’s spread out just like he wanted this to happen when you put a hand on each side of him. Your glasses slide to the end of your nose, and John is apparently comfortable enough to push them back into place for you. It’s pretty adorable actually. You can see his eyes looking over you, and you have second thoughts on his true intentions for about a split second. 

“Then consider me hot and bothered.” He pulls you down with his hands inside your shirt this time, and his lips are on yours in moments. You give a small ‘mmph’ in response, but soon you adjust and simply kiss back. Might as well take the moment as it’s presented to you. And you can’t believe how well it’s going, actually, it’s sort of odd how well this is going. Johns hands are slipping around to your back, and your eyes open in the slightest. You pull away reluctantly, earning a small whine from John that he obviously didn’t mean to let loose. 

“John? This you?” you ask, smirking down at him. You can’t go further without establishing if this a game or not, even though the tingle of John’s lips on yours is still present. 

“Who else would it be?” He asks innocently, his hands still in your shirt. He looks away from you for a quick moment, and when his eyes meet yours again he has a different emotion in them. “I did lie about another identity though.” You raise an eyebrow at this, and he continues. “Rose didn’t tell me anything. My idea.” 

It does surprise you a bit, but then you remember how you’re currently positioned. That wasn’t just determination. The boy kept on, rambling now. 

“I’ve lied about a couple things really, like I’m not a homosexual and…” his voice is so low and quiet you can barely hear him, even with your closeness. But you’re pretty sure that’s what you just heard. “I really just wanted to play this so I could…” He drifts off again, and you mentally urge him to go on. His face turns from yours, and he continues. “I just really wanted to kiss you.”

That’s way more than enough for you, and this certainly isn’t a game anymore. You slide down to your forearms, and he looks back up to you as you get incredibly close. 

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a really long time John, you don’t even know.” You were prepared to lift him to you for a kiss, but instead he’s the one to break the tension, pulling you down by the neck to kiss him again. Your glasses hit together, and you both break the kiss to laugh at it. It’s odd how normal this feels. But you figure you basically did this to a lower degree with him anyways. Hell, the boy’s slept with you in your own bed from past sleepovers before. You suddenly wonder if his love had seemed as unrequited as yours did for as long as yours was, but your thoughts are soon distracted. 

His fingers are on the sides of your shades, and he pulls down on them before you can say wait. He’s presumably seen their color before, you’ve slipped up more times than you can count before hand. There was a day where he came in your house unannounced, and caught you coming out of a long shower. Shades had been hard to come by with wet feet and a flustered mind. But it still scared you sometimes. They slipped from your hair slowly, and were soon folded and beside you. John took one wandering glance into them before slipping off his own glasses. You could’ve swore he mumbled something like a thank you for being nearsighted. 

And damn his eyes are so much bluer without that glass. It’s stupid for a second, both of you just admiring the other. But then you remember you’re allowed to kiss him again. 

This time it’s more than just a peck on the lips, and you can feel his heated body come up at points to meet yours. You eventually lean down more, just enough to everything but upper chest are touching. And that was a very obvious jutting into your hips. You both have to come up for air after a while, and John dorkily slips a hand across his mouth to get off the excess tongueage. You gulp a bit, looking down at him as he looks up at you. You smirk, and you can tell he knows the look.

“Something bothering you John?” you ask, moving your hips in the slightest. John bites his lip hard, looking up at you with what looks like the same deviousness. 

“I don’t know Dave, is that your extra pair of shades poking me?” You snort down at him, and he smiles, those glittering eyes taking you full force. That smile had always made you smile right back. You laugh, giving him a nudge with your elbow. 

“Feel like shades to you?” You smile and kiss him again, softer and more loving this time. John gives you the same emotion in response, his hands coming around your shoulders and pulling you close. You both slip into a less horny and more soothing state.

“Hey Dave?” he asks, and you give him a gauging look, red eyes now uncovered for him to judge your thinking. “Does this mean we’re…”

You smile. “John, I think this means we’re.” You chuckle and move your weight to the side, toppling over to where you can pull John over you instead. He looks surprised for a fleeting moment, by soon relaxes against you, black hair ruffling under your chin as he rests his cheek against your chest. He hums contently, drawing circles in your shirt. That was the most innocent response you could think of. Of course both of you know what you were now. Together. Finally.

“I like being we’re.” John mumbles, eyes shutting softly against you. 

“Me too.”


End file.
